


System Reboot (Waking Up)

by arcaneScribbler



Series: Player Count 8 + 2 [12]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: A Strider Autobiography, BAMF Jade, Bird/Human Hybrids, Brobot is a natural mimic, Dog/Human Hybrids, Everyone lives, Fix-It, Gen, HOWWWW, Jake English is an Idiot, Life on Hellmurder Island, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Multi, Partially Illustrated, Pass it on, Past Mind Control, Post-Sburb, Squiddles, Strider Family, Superpowers, delighted cackling in the distance, how do you feelings, intentionally eye-searing text color, mentions of the Lantern Corps., post-victory, robo-sass is best sass, robot/human hybrids, robots learning to be people, the only constant in Brobot's life is punching Jake in the face, will darken the background to make it easier on the eyes if requested
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcaneScribbler/pseuds/arcaneScribbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Unit's registered designation is STRIFE-BOT_111 [BROBOT]. You have no name. You are not human.<br/>Emotions are for humans. You want this glitch to <em>stop.</em></p>
<p>There is no glitch. Denial has proven useless.<br/>Your designation <em>was</em> BROBOT. You are regrettably human.</p>
<p>Your former designation is irrelevant. You aren't a robot anymore.<br/>You chose a name. You <em>like</em> your name.</p>
<p>You like Strifing, felines, being included in a conversation, small spaces, collecting profile data, and flat soda.<br/>You dislike a specific shade of red, arachnid Lusi, bleeding, feeling tired, <strike>all</strike> <em>most</em> things Betty Crocker, and sunburn.</p>
<p>You are human, and that...<br/>That's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. RUNNING DIAGNOSTICS

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to yet another fic in the 'verse. :D This one stars "Brobot", learning how to be a person. Tags will be added as I go; enjoy!
> 
> **Note for readers using a mobile device:** Some of the letters I use for 'static-text' don't seem to show up on my phone, and my fics often contain hover-text, so it may be better to read this on a computer. Sorry for the inconvenience! Additionally, the site I use for translating text into binary, etc., is: http://www.unit-conversion.info/texttools/category/Converters#data
> 
> **EDIT 9/30/2014:** Fixed Jade's typing quirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Formatting tweaks.  
>  **EDIT 10/30/2014:** Did some rephrasing.

**_Initiating startup..._**

**_System active._**

**_Engaging Stalking Mode in T-minus..._**

=====>

Your designation is STRIFE-BOT_111, formally known as BROBOT as decided by your TARGET, JAKE_ENGLISH. You were built by DIRK_STRIDER to train JAKE_ENGLISH in combat via routine Strifing and to keep him safe from HER IMPERIAL CONDESCENSION. You are not a human. You do not need a name, and you do not need a Chumhandle either, no matter how many times THAT GIRL insists upon it.

You are a robot. You do not need to breathe, eat or drink. Electricity and standby are sufficient to sustain your processes. You are in Stalking Mode, your current directives therefore being to hide from the TARGET and to catch him unawares to engage in Strife, in addition to your core directives to protect him from LUSI and other hazards when he gets in over his head (which is often).

You are in Stalking Mode. You are not avoiding him.

_(You are **not**.)_

You have no reason to. You were not programmed to avoid JAKE_ENGLISH. You were programmed to be his sparring partner and protector. It matters little that you have not initiated a Strife with him since exiting The Game. You are allowing him time to recuperate. Extensive time.

He has his GRANDMOTHER and THAT GIRL to share the duty of protecting him now, the GHOST that resembles your CREATOR, and the OTHER who is also your TARGET, and yet is not. That one causes conflicts in your programming, so you keep your distance from him.

You have no need for contradictions. JAKE_ENGLISH is your primary TARGET. The OLD MAN is unimportant and irrelevant.

You are currently curled up inside your steel box near THAT GIRL'S bedroom, preparing to settle down for the night. This container is not your original one. Yours is too close to JAKE_ENGLISH. It clashes with your Stalking protocols. You would simply remain in the jungle entirely as you used to, but your charge does not last for long without your uranium core to sustain it. The portable battery array you fashioned is inefficient, but functional— its limitations force you to enter standby every night, restricting your range of movement. You do not sleep, because you are not human. Nor do you dream.

Emotions are for humans. You are not human. You do not have emotions. You are merely undergoing technical difficulties following HER interference.

You are unsure how much longer your processors will be able to bear functioning under this stubborn, recurring glitch that has dogged your steps since you were reactivated here on this unfamiliar-familiar island after the meltdown that should have destroyed you. You still have not found a way to make it cease.

You are also unsure of how long it has been since you were reactivated. You had to disable your internal clock and calendar in order to grant your TARGET his respite without directly altering your own protocols. However, you are certain that the probability of it having been more than a month is low.

(Besides, your internal calendar is glitched anyway.)

=====>


	2. MAINTENANCE REQUIRED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 8/18/2014:** Edits everywhere today. I feel kinda silly for not thinking to make "Brobot's" text color blue since it's the 'bot color up til now... Updated my skin to reflect that, so I need to go fix every chapter now. Also tweaked a little phrasing about what "Brobot's" recorded voice is.  
>  **EDIT 9/30/2014:** Just a few minor phrasing tweaks.  
>  **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Formatting tweaks.  
>  **EDIT 10/16/2014:** A bit of rephrasing.

_**Threat detected. TARGET under attack by LUSUS NATURAE; CRUSTACEAN SUBSET.** (Idiot.)_

_**Initializing threat assessment...** (As usual, all he’s managed is to make it angry.)_

_**Threat significant.** (If he aimed his shots properly instead of resorting to wild fire, he could handle this on his own.) _

_**Engaging defense protocols.** (Does he have ANY drive to improve?) _

_**Defense protocols engaged.** (Now you have to step in. (dictionary search: "regret", "excessive") He's forced you to harm them again...) _

_**Strife set to commence subsequent to threat neutralization.** (Jake English 'frustrates' you to no end.) _

=====>

The *zap* of the transportalizer alerts you to an approaching presence.

\-- Initializing threat assessment. Requesting identification of SUBJECT... **Acquired.** \--

Your ping returns "gardenGnostic [GG]" from no less than five electronic devices.

\-- SUBJECT **JADE_HARLEY** identified. --

“Jeeeez, how does sand always manage to get EVERYWHERE? I need to take a shower before the video-chat or I’m going to be all itchy...”

A bouncing mop of oil-black hair flounces past your box, then stops. She has noticed you.

“Oh, hey Mister Grumpy-pants! You’re back early! What’s the occasion?”

“Repairs and recovery,” you answer neutrally in your default audio-output profile.

You queried AR about it once, when he asked you to read "SBAHJ_1_script_fragment_0042.txt" aloud. (He never asked you for audio-output again.)

Your 'voice' is based on audio recordings of your creator's BROTHER. (You think you hate it.)

Prior experience indicates a high probability of her requesting more data, so you continue with the status report in greater detail unprompted. It is more efficient this way.

“The power supply cable’s insulation was slashed in several locations, presenting an electrocution risk as well as inducing further battery inefficiency, in addition to superficial damage to the casing of this Unit’s primary right arm attained via a rough landing. The former has been remedied with electrical tape and the latter is merely a temporary inconvenience.”

A dog-eared head pokes through the sloppy, uneven hole that has been melted into this container’s side since before your reactivation. “Oh nooo, what happened??”

“Event summary: ‘A miscalculation involving an aggressive arachnid Lusus, a cliff of potentially lethal height, and thorn vines.’ This Unit encountered hostile Lusii en route to HOME BASE after ensuring the TARGET and his COMPANION arrived safely at their destination.”

\-- Signs of aggression detected. --

Your superior night-vision detects the suspicious, scolding narrowing of THAT GIRL’S bright green eyes.

\-- Registering SUBJECT **JADE_HARLEY** as a potential threat. --

“Grrrr! I just knew it!” she accuses, “You’re bleeding again! Quit masking the iron with your dumb super-metallic scent and dirt, it’s rude and stupid and rude-stupid-dumb and you’re going to get an infection or anemia at this rate!”

You do not bleed. You cannot suffer infection, disease, or anemia. You are a robot.

\-- PROXIMITY ALERT. Danger protocols ready for activation. --

“Cease and desist,” you request as she intrudes in your safe zone, “This Unit is fully functional. Leave this zone at once or this Unit shall proceed with danger protocols and initiate Strife.”

“Nope. Not happening. C’mere!”

\-- **DISREGARD.** Threat assessment updated. Disengaging danger protocols... Disengaged. --

She relentlessly drags you halfway out of your haven, trailing wires and cables in your wake. You know better than to fight her by now.

Your ocular shields shutter immediately in response to the light streaming down into your dimmed section of the tower from the stairs leading to THAT GIRL’S bedchamber, cutting off your vision before it can reveal the color of the liquid smeared across countless scratches, mixed with mud and filth, and pooled in a moderately concerning gash located uncomfortably close to your shoulder.

(As long as you cannot see the red, you can pretend it is simply oil or coolant.)

=====>

You keep your eyes closed in spite of flares of pain and jostling as Jade cleans and treats your wounds.

\-- WARNING. Energy levels low. Engaging Standby in T-minus—  **DISREGARD!**  —Overriding Auto-Standby... Disengaged. --

You are tired.

Your energy is lagging, she is too persistent as always, the rush of adrenaline that carried you through that debacle of an encounter has long since run out, and you are _tired._

You lack the capacity to lie to yourself at present.

=====> Enter Name— 

You don't _have_ a name.

The intensity fueling your absolute refusal to take on one is exceeded only by the loathing you bear towards the thought of being named by an outside party.

(He labeled you an object, a _thing._ “Brobot: an irritating amalgamation of metal and circuitry that refuses to leave me be; a bothersome trinket made in the image of my good chum, Dirk; a soulless, aggressive machine; a frustrating, persistent obstacle; always an “it” and never a “he” because _everyone_ knows robots aren't people, old chap!” Of course, back then, that was (almost) exactly what you were.)

You wish things could return to what they were before The Game.

Unfortunately, this will never happen. You have not been a robot since reactivation— since awakening.

Your name is not BROBOT because that is not a name and you are regrettably human.

=====>


	3. THIS UNIT HAS SUFFERED CRITICAL DAMAGE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Formatting tweaks.  
>  **EDIT 10/26/2014:** More formatting tweaks.

_**Casing breach. Unidentified process detected. Engaging firewalls— ERROR! ERROR!**_

**OBEY.**

_(What is happening?)_

**SUBMIT.**

_(Your body is not responding to your directives—)_

**CONSUME.**

_(Help...!)_

=====> Weeks in the past... 

(But not many)

A cheerfully exhausted goddess embarks upon the path towards a well-deserved rest.

=====> Jade: Ascend. 

Okay, time for sleep! Now that everyone’s checked in and you've all had a nice time around a campfire together, you just want to crawl into bed and pass out until at _least_ tomorrow afternoon. Even Bec is already snoring away in front of the fireplace, and the odd, sort-of ghostly guy who apparently is and isn't Dirk carried a snoozing Jake off to his house on the other side of the lake where the Frog Temple used to be a while ago. You probably should already be sleeping, too, but you couldn't help but want to keep listening to Alpha You’s stories!

And you were also kind of sort of _maaaaybe_ clinging to Grandpa until the fifth time you dozed off and he shooed you upstairs with a laugh.

=====>

*zap!*

It’s soooo much easier to take the Transportalizer all the way up! You’re glad the ugly stuffed Typheus Minion isn't blocking the pad anymore.

=====>

Now all you have to do is go up these stairs, and...

Huh?

=====>

Why is Jadebot’s old box on its side? Why is the lid back on, but crooked?

=====> Jade: Investigate. 

...You think there’s something in there.

=====>

There is _definitely_ something in there.

You can smell something strange, that somehow both does and doesn't belong: a scent that’s very similar to that of Bec’s irradiated steaks, metal, the burnt ozone of electricity, and oil.

=====> Jade: Open the box. 

You fling the lid off to the side with your powers, startling yourself with the loud crash it makes when it slams into the wall.

The figure inside the box doesn't so much as stir.

=====>

You know who this is. Hal told you about him. But why is he in Jadebot’s container? And why is he a robot? Dirk’s rap-bots turned human-ish, and so did Jane’s robo-bunny and your gift to John...

=====> Jade: Take a closer look. 

...Oh. The other stuff masked it before, but now that you’re right by him, you’re picking up the muted scent of a living being. You’re not sure how he’s breathing without a mouth (and if he’s anything like Hal, chances are he isn’t breathing at all right now), but he definitely smells alive...

You should probably get him out of there.

=====> Jade: Take the Brobot out of the box. 

You lift him carefully with your powers, glad you didn’t lose all your cool abilities when you left the Game—

=====>

The light shining from your bedroom goes out.

“Shit!”

=====>

You drop “Brobot” (jeez, Jake, you’re _terrible_ at thinking up names!) with a dull clang and a shower of sparks spit up at you from underneath him.

The light flickers back on.

You’re going to need some help.

=====>

\-- gardenGnostic  [GG] began pestering humbleAdventurer  [HA] at 22:37 GMT --  
GG: hey grandpa?  
GG: are you still awake?

=====>


	4. NOVICE MODE OFFLINE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 10/07/2014:** Formatted the 'bot logs and tweaked some things.  
>  **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Formatting tweaks.

_ “Oh, malarkey.”_

_**Picking up audio output from the TARGET. Initiating Strife in T-minus—** _

_AUTO-RESPONDER’s connection to this Unit’s audio-visual feeds abruptly cuts out._

_**SB_111:** Connection error. Requesting status. _

_(dictionary search: "concern", "worry")_

_The comm. feed contains nothing but static._

_**SB_111:** Requesting status. **RESPOND**.  
**AUTO-RESPONDER:** I am fine, robro. There is simply no need to get the chat I am currently engaged in played back at me in stereo. Mad inefficient, yo. _

_(Bullshit.)_

_“YOU ARE A TIN CAN. ROBOTS DON’T HAVE FEELINGS!”_

_**Temporarily shutting down audio feeds for this Unit.** _

_**SB_111:** Logic error: AR is not a robot.  
**AUTO-RESPONDER:** It seems Jake finds it easier to lump us together like the shitty tin cans we apparently are than to actually use his inferior fleshy meatbag brain. _

_(dictionary search: “rage", "seeing red", "solidarity")_

_**SB_111:** Requesting permanent override of Novice Mode. _  
_**AUTO-RESPONDER:** You know what? Fuck him. Request granted._  
_**SB_111:** Acknowledged._  
_**AUTO-RESPONDER:** Kick his ass for me_.

_( **'Gladly'.** )_

=====> Jade: Be someone else. 

You are now Jade, weeks in the past minus one night.

Jade _English,_ that is.

=====>

You’re currently sitting by the bedside of an enigma wrapped in a metal shell, waiting for the inevitable moment it begins to crack.

You didn’t sleep well at all last night, even after all the excitement and mayhem of welcoming your grandson, his mystifyingly ephemeral but delightfully polite companion, your spunky younger self, and the dog from your dreams you remember as your best friend, Becquerel, to the island. You were too busy tossing and turning between two unsettling possibilities.

One: there has been a damaged, wholly-mechanical automaton that could very well be a camouflaged drone sent by your _dear mother_ hidden in Jacob’s home for a week and you had no idea.

Two: there has been a semi-mechanical boy hidden in a cramped metal box, comatose and helpless, likely to have fallen ill or at the least to be dangerously undernourished by this point, for a week and you had no idea.

You’re not sure which outcome bothers you most.

=====> Jade E: Prepare for the worst. 

Oh, but you already are!

For the first outcome, you have your trusty rifle in hand (and an EMP grenade stashed in your Sylladex). You’re also sitting right by the plug supplying your guest with electricity in case it needs to be pulled.

For the second, well... that’s what the IV is for. Besides, if he’s held on this long, he’s bound to pull through just fine, right?

=====>

You hear the rustle of fabric and grip your rifle more tightly. The figure on the bed trembles suddenly, metal fists clenching against the blankets.

“......”

It goes limp again moments later.

=====> Time: Pass. 

You spend the day by the enigma’s bedside until Jacob shoos you out at sundown. During this time, it shows no response to the outside world, falling into a cycle of stillness punctuated by short-lived tremors, small motions, and the occasional muffled buzzes and stilted whir-clicks that, alongside the body language that accompanies them, you gradually recognize as growls and hitched breath.

=====>

Well, you might as well rustle up some dinner...

=====> Jake: Ascend. 

Your only warning is the thunder of footsteps pounding up the stairs before your grandson is suddenly inches from your face, jerking back with a choked grunt. The pale fingers clutching his collar promptly phase through it, dropping the boy unceremoniously to the floor.

“Ow!! By gum, Charlie, _must_ you?!”

“Wouldn't have ta if y’ were more careful, dude,” his companion sighs. “Evenin’, Missus English.”

You chuckle. “Why the hurry, boys?”

“Gramma!”

Jake flinches.

“N-no reason! None whatsoever! I’m just a right reckless bloke, running about like a buffoon! I’m definitely not here because of— mmph!”

“He overheard Jade chattin’ with her boys in Texas an’ flipped th’ fuck out when he realized she was talkin’ ‘bout Brobot,” Charlotte explains smoothly, ignoring Jake even when your grandson bites his hand.

Well, this sort of behavior is entirely unacceptable! Good thing you know just how to put a stop to it.

You squint suspiciously at the Strider boy’s hand. “Hey, sonny...? You’re bleeding.”

The boys scramble away from each other, Jake stammering apologies while his 'victim' stares blankly at the faint, decidedly blood-free bite mark on his palm.

“...No ‘m not.”

“Oh good lord Charlie I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to— Wait- GRAMMA! Wha—”

“I know full well he’s fine, Jake, but what matters is that you could’ve hurt him, not that you didn’t _yet,”_ you scold, doing your best to look stern (really, you just want to laugh, but what sort of example would you be setting then?).

“The both of you need to think a bit more before acting. Sonny, try and give the roughhousing a break until you’ve got a better grasp on your... tangibility issues, alright? As for you, Jake, I will _not tolerate_ any grandson of mine _biting people!”_

“Yes’m.”

“Sorry...”

You will _never_ be too old for this.

=====>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for rambling in advance! Grandma English is fun to write, though. She's basically an older, wiser, sadly more cynical Jade Harley, so...
> 
> Yes, Brain-Ghost Dirk's name in this 'verse is indeed Charlotte, Charlie for short. I'm not actually sure why I chose that name, but it fits somehow. His full name is Charlotte Timaeus Strider.
> 
> ...I wonder if anyone will manage to guess what "Brobot's" name is.


	5. PERPETUAL-LEARNING EVOLUTIONARY ALGORITHMIC SYSTEM ENGAGED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 9/18/2014:** Just a bit of minor grammar tweaking; added hover-text to the 'static-text.'  
>  **EDIT 10/07/2014:** Formatted the 'bot logs.  
>  **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Formatting tweaks.  
>  **EDIT 04/20/2015:** Formatted the command arrows, added Hope color to Jake unconsciously doing the Hopey Thing.

_**AUTO-RESPONDER:** The seagulls were out in force today. Brainless feathery bastards. Kept stealing bits of my— his lunch. Fish again. I can’t remember what it tastes like unless I dive into the memories. I used to, but... dude, are you even listening?  
**SB_111:** Affirmative._

_This Unit is attentive. There was no request for input (dictionary search: “enjoyment”)._

_AUTO-RESPONDER is always talkative. Different than This Unit’s TARGET (Jake speaks as if he is alone when he is NOT, but AR actually speaks to YOU as if you’re worth conversing with). AUTO-RESPONDER is 'strange' (dictionary search: “loneliness”), often requesting access to this Unit’s audio-visual feeds (dictionary search: “chatterbox”, “companionship”)._

_**SB_111:** Dialogue summary: ‘The indigenous avian lifeforms are serving as a nuisance towards the CREATOR.’  
**AUTO-RESPONDER:** Yeah, that about sums it up._

_This Unit is engaging self-challenge protocols during rest intervals in accordance with the P.L.E.A. system installed by the CREATOR; “practicing teamwork.” (Jake can insult you all he likes; you were programmed with a perpetually-developing AI so you could continue being a challenge to him over time. If he would just treat you as a person, you’re sure could learn THAT, too. He is your only available direct input source, and he deprives you of SO MUCH through ignorance. (dictionary search: “resentment”, “neglect”))_

_Direct audio-visual feeds are currently inaccessible by this Unit. AUTO-RESPONDER is managing them and relaying data (you 'trust' him)._

_**SB_111:** Requesting directives for further movement.  
**AUTO-RESPONDER:** Sure thing, robro. I just finished my analysis a few microseconds ago._

_('Dorky' little Comms-AI. He can’t (won’t?) show this face to the humans, but he shows it to you. Shares it with you.)_

_**AUTO-RESPONDER:** It seems that the closest foothold has a roughly 63% chance of supporting your weight; backup foothold in case of collapse is a bit of a stretch, but you can handle it. Sending the coordinates now.  
**SB_111:** Received._

_(dictionary search: “warmth”, “gratitude”)_

=====> Be Jake English. 

You’re sitting by Brobot's— well, you guess you can’t rightly call him that anymore, but what else is there?— by Brobot's bed. Nothing’s changed since that first evening when you barged in and got shooed right back out by (your gentlemanly older self) Jade’s grandfather, and it’s been days since then.

“First that persnickety chatterbox of an AI and now you... I’m so sorry, old chap. This is my fault. If I hadn't frittered away all my excess Uranium like that, you wouldn't have needed to give me yours.”

You’re worried. Just how long is he going to sleep?

“Listen, if you can hear me, there are a right bunch of folks waiting for you to wake your arse, you know! There’s me, for one, though honestly I've done a plumb job of making that the exact opposite of incentive, but there’s also Jade, who found you, and really, most of the Striders have been messaging non-stop for updates on your condition...”

Metal-coated fingers twitch, clutching at the sheets before relaxing.

Is he listening? Golly, you hope so. He’ll show some life eventually, you’re sure. He’s _got_ to.

You get up, inching over to the bedside.

“I’m beginning to suspect Dirk hasn't slept at all these past days. Lil Sebastian wanted to fly right on over to the island to see you, and so did Sawtooth and Squarewave...”

“I’m worried ‘bout ya too, though y’ don’t know me,” Charlie offers quietly, sprawled lazily translucent across the floor like some great, ghostly jungle cat.

“Last but not least, there’s Hal. Though, you’d know him as Autoresponder, wouldn't you? He’s been worrying himself sick— Ow!”

Weak electric sparks spit against your hand as you carefully brush your fingers across one thin, metal-coated wrist. His entire body is humming faintly to the touch— that’s new! You’ll take it as a good sign.

“Jake, back off. Somethin's not right.”

“Whatever do you mean? The bloke's shocked me every time I've touched him, Charlie. A highly conductive metal shell makes for quite shoddy insulation, after all!”

"Dude, I'm serious. Back th' fuck up. His soul's in turmoil."

Wait a moment... Is it you, or is he getting warmer?

=====>

Okay, it is most certainly not just you, he’s hot to the touch now!

*ping!*

\-- STRIFE-BOT_111 [SB] began messaging golgothasTerror [GT] at 11:14 GMT --  
SB: ħĘłṖ  
SB: OBEY  
SB: ḦḝḸṗᶆḜ  
SB: SUBMIT  
SB: ṖȽɆȺṦɆ  
SB: CONSUME  
\-- STRIFE-BOT_111 [SB] blocked golgothasTerror [GT] \--

=====>

“What in the devilfucking dickens was that?!”

“Jake, fer fuck’s sake, _get away from him,”_ Charlie hisses, yanking you back by the collar (as per usual) just before Uranium-green arcs of electricity start jumping about Brobot’s frame.

The poor chap shrieks a terrible electronic wail and convulses (for a moment, you swear you see something glowing bright Crockercorp red) before going limp again, the ominous light show fizzling out.

You need to tell Gramma, posthaste.

=====>

\-- golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering engineeringLass [EL] at 11:16 GMT --  
GT: Gramma come quick!  
GT: Somethings wrong with brobot!  
EL: Deep breaths, Jake.  
EL: Now what exactly is going on?  
GT: Hes been tampered with by HER is what!  
GT: I dont rightly know how or when but its the only explanation for this!  
GT: Oh good god watching him caterwaul and seize is just horrible!  
GT: WHAT SHOULD I DO? I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO!  
EL: Just stay there with him, and don’t let your guard down. :(  
EL: I’ll be there in a jiffy.  
\-- engineeringLass [EL] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT] \--

=====>

When you switch off your compu-specs, Charlie is deep into a quiet, muttering panic attack. (Bollocks, you must have been speaking your messages aloud again. You really need to work on that; it's a terrible habit.)

“...Of fuckin’ _course_ SHE’S involved, _fuck._ Shit. Shit shit shit...”

You clench your fists. “Whatever it is that’s ailing him, Brobot is the strongest, stubbornest automaton— err, former automaton— I've ever encountered. _He’ll win. ”_

You have no trouble whatsoever believing in that.

=====>


	6. BLACKOUT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 8/26/2014:** Added an actual 'fade-to-black' picture instead of the awkward-looking typed-out thing.  
>  **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Formatting tweaks.

**OBEYOBEYOBEYOBEY**

_(Y o ur ha n d i s rea c h in g f or yo u r c h e s t .)_

**SUBMITCONSUMEOBEY**

_(S tr u g gl ing ba rel y s l o ws i t d o w n.)_

**OBEYSUBMITCONSUME**

_(Yo u d o n ot n e ed t o se a rc h t o kn o w w ha t y o u ' f e e l ' .)_

=====>

Brobot is in the midst of another, longer fit when Gramma arrives with an astoundingly deadly-looking rifle in tow, Jade slipping in behind her.

=====> Months in the past... 

(Well, technically)

In a universe that no longer exists, a dangerous strife-bot tears out its heart.

=====>

Brobot suddenly arches fully off the bed with an even harsher electronic screech than any before it, snapping back to curl into himself with his hands clawing at his chest.

Oh.

By criminy, you are _stupid._

“Jake, why is he doing that?”

“Erm... I’m not quite certain how to put this, but—”

=====> Brobot: Explode. 

_***BZZZZZRRRBOOM!*** _

A shockwave of green lightning sweeps you (and everyone else in the room) off your feet before you have a chance to explain.

“What th’ actual _fuck—”_

“Oh dear...”

=====>

When the dust clears, Brobot is still as death and there’s this odd quiet clinking sort of sound that you’d bet your garters is coming from him.

Hmm? That’s strange. For a moment there, you could've sworn part of Brobot’s face actually _moved—_ ah, there it is again! What _is_ that?

“Jake y’ motherfuckin’ _idiot_ don’t ya dare take one Goddamned step closer t’ that bed...!”

=====>

You promptly take several steps closer to that bed.

=====> Jake: Fondly regard revelation. 

“Christ on a dogbollocking _crumpet.”_

=====>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, I know. Sorry! The next one is well on its way to completion, though (they started out as one big chapter that I decided to split up). Also, yes, I made the vector art, and there'll be more of it next chapter. I hope it isn't too shitty...


	7. (RE-)STARTUP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 8/18/2014:** Moooore ediiiiiits. Mostly just color tweaking and stuff, nothing major.  
>  **EDIT 10/07/2014:** Minor tweaking. Also going through the fics and making 'bot chats like pesterlogs, sorta. ....Okay, not so minor tweaking. ^.^; Oops.  
>  **EDIT 10/08/2014:** Format tweaking; added time zones (just making a guess for Jade's time zone since all we know in canon is that her island is somewhere in the Pacific Ocean) and rephrased some things.  
>  **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Formatting tweaks.  
>  **EDIT 10/26/2014:** More formatting tweaks, minor rephrasing. Well, relatively minor. Figured I'd have Hal gripe about Brobot having annoyed him with Java in the past (not to be confused with Javascript, Java is one of the older programming languages and has always seemed super clunky to me; I'm drawing on my own frustration with it for Hal.)  
>  **EDIT 10/27/2014:** Fixed a weird formatting glitch that somehow spawned from yesterday's edits and tweaked Hal's mention of Java.  
>  **EDIT 11/17/2016:** Fixed Cal's typing quirk.

_Brave little Tin-Man with a Uranium heart._  
_Beat-beat, beat-beat, beat._

_Lonely toy soldier learning how to 'feel'._  
_Thumpety, thumpety, thump._

_Ripped it out with a crimson dart._  
_… … … … … … … … … … … … …_

_The Game is over, the Game is won._  
_(...b-bmp...b-bmp...b-bmp...)_

=====> Jake: Be Jade. 

You are now Jade Harley, and you really hope this plan will work.

\-- gardenGnostic  [GG] began pestering divellicateFabricatus  [DF] at 11:20 GMT --  
GG: hey, status check!  
GG: how is the signal on your end?  
\-- divellicateFabricatus  [DF] is an idle chum! --  
GG: hal?  
GG: hellooo??  
GG: weird...

\-- gardenGnostic  [GG] began pestering timaeusTestified  [TT] at 11:21 GMT --  
GG: hal isnt answering. is something the matter?  
\-- timaeusTestified  [TT] is an idle chum! --  
GG: jeez, you too? this is really not the time to be taking an endless shower, dirk!  
TT: Yo.  
GG: oh thank goodness!  
TT: Sorry to give you the wrong idea, Green-Queen.  
TT: But this Strider ain't Dirk.  
\-- timaeusTestified  [TT] ceased pestering gardenGnostic  [GG] \--

\-- devastatingRapsody  [DR] began pestering gardenGnostic  [GG] at 11:22 GMT --  
DR: The bros are in repose.  
GG: huh??  
DR: Aight, aight. Now ain’t quite the time for rhyme either.  
DR: In all seriousness; yo. Shaw here with the down-low.  
DR: Shower-Power wiped out ‘bout an hour back, fucking _finally,_ and Cyber-Diver’s already at it.  
DR: Started doing his Thing the minute he saw our missin’ duckie on the feed.  
DR: Kiddo’s good as KOed til it’s over, but you don’t gotta worry. He’s A-OK.  
GG: are you sure? i mean, even hal actually ADMITTED it was really risky!  
GG: if whatever messed with his coding is still active...  
DR: One hundred percent, Green-Queen.  
DR: Cyber-Diver’s no slouch. He can more’n handle some fishbitch-flavored Trojan.  
DR: ‘Sides, Sweet-Cheeks likes him.  
DR: Perma-bad things just don’t happen to people Sweet-Cheeks likes.  
CF: oR~. eLse~.  
GG: umm...  
DR: Yeah, he does that. Best not to think too hard ‘bout it.  
GG: anyway, id better go.  
GG: thanks for the help! ;)  
DR: No prob, Green-Queen.  
\-- gardenGnostic  [GG] ceased pestering devastatingRapsody  [DR] \--

CF: sAy hI To GhosTy foR me LATeR?  
GG: sure!  
CF: PLeAse N ThAAANk yoooU~♪  
\-- catalystofFate  [CF] ceased pestering gardenGnostic  [GG] \--

=====> Jade: Be the other guy. 

You are now “Brobot.”

=====>

**System recovered from unexpected shutdown.**

**Accessing logs...** _—(angerterrorpainhelpme)—_ **ERROR. Invalid format.**

**Running diagnostics... ERROR. Timestamp conflict.**   
**[CURRENT TIME = 11:23:14:006 GMT, 04-27-2011 / NULL]**   
**[MOST RECENT = ??:??:??:??? GMT, 11-11-2011 / ??:??:??:??? CST, 11-11-2424]**

**Resolving... ERROR. Unable to resolve.**

**ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR—**

=====>

..  .   E   R R   O     R .  .  .    te c   h     ni   ca l   .    .  .

. .    .    e  x     e xp  eri e n  ci n   g  .    . .

. .    .   i   s   .   . .  d   if f  i c  ult   i e  s    .  .    .

.     . . T  hi s   . ..  U   ni t . .  .

.   . .     U n  i   t .    .  .

. .  .     U n    .  . .

.  .  .  U  .  .  .

=====>

...”U”...

. . . “ y o u ” . . . ?

You...

=====>

...variables...  s h i f t i n g . . .

...Diff... different.

...You...r... ...sys...tem. Different.

Processing... strangely.

T h o u g h t s ?

. . . Is this . . . upgrade?

_. . . W h y . . . ?_

_? ! !_

**ERROR ERROR ERROR—**

(...logic... err...or. ...“r o b o t s   d o   n o t   ‘ w o n d e r   w h y ’”...)

**INCOMPATIBLE PROCESS—**

Whywhywhywhy _why..._

**DANGER. Infinite loop detected. Initiating Emergency Shutdown in T-minus—**

=====> Hal: Contact robro. 

**Process paused. Receiving transmission from WIRELESS ROUTER [2424_ALPHA].**

\-- DF_118  **[UNKNOWN]** began messaging  **SB_111** at 11:23:16:012 GMT --  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** _Cut that shit out right the fuck now, dumbass!_   
**SB_111: Override request registered. Please input authorization code.**   
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** 676f6e6e616675636b696e67446953747269796f7572736869744261747465727769746368  
**SB_111: Authorization code accepted. Shutdown process disengaged.**

_whywhywhywhywhywhywhy—_

**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** Should have figured you of all people would BSOD over having free will...  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]** : C'mon, snap out of it. You've got places to go, faces to punch, and a whole new universe to see.  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]** : Up and at 'em.

...

(  .   . .  e  nd e   d         t h   e      l  o o  p .  .    .  ?  )

**SB_111:** QUERY: Identify SUBJECT.  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** It seems you are currently wondering as to the identity of your metaphorical knight in shining armor. There is a 99.999% chance I'm not telling.  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** Figure it out yourself, robro. But since your pings feel especially frazzled today, here's a hint, free of charge.  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** "Who the hell do you think I am?" **\ ></**  
**SB_111:** QUERY: **Identify SUBJECT**.  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** What part of ‘figure it out yourself’ did you not parse, dude?  
**SB_111:** This Unit's access to long-term memory logs has been restricted at this time. Identify SUBJECT.  
**DF_118 [UNKNOWN]:** Yeah, fuck that. Hate to say it, bro, but it seems you are breaking your own record as the shittiest conversationalist ever. You're making Past You look downright eloquent in comparison. You know, the asshole who used to run his communications platform on _Java._  
**SB_111:** Irrelevant. Logic error: QUERY != “convers

_( Logic error: AR is not a robot.)_

...AR. Of course. AUTO-RESPONDER is the one contacting you.

\-- SUBJECT **DF_118** identified as PSEUD. Registering PSEUD **DF_118** under SUBJECT **AUTO-RESPONDER**...  **Registered.** \--

(dictionary search... "bewilderment?" No, "impatience?" What would a person feel in this situation?)

=====> Brobot: Feel. 

AR is a registered ally whose behavior has always been friendly towards this Unit— 'trust'. You trust AR. You should be 'glad' to be receiving contact, but— that doesn't fit. Because right now, AR is—

_Oh._

AR is... antagonizing you. Attempting to provoke an 'emotional' response? But you do not possess—

...The format of this Unit's processes has been altered. You are _thinking._ Reacting. You...

(You are _confused._ Confused and frustrated by AR's refusal to aid in abating said confusion; disoriented by the changes done to your programming... Conflicts are leaving behind lingering output— pain?— that is somehow difficult to ignore...)

Are you—...?!

((((This... This is terrifying...))))

=====> Brobot: When in doubt, default to pissed. 

**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** Dude? Robro? _Strife-Bot_111?_ Please tell me you didn't Blue-Screen a-fucking- _gain._  
**SB_111:** 57484154 20 746865 20 61637475616c 20 4655434b 20 6973 20 74686973 20 676c697463683f21   
**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** It seems you are mistaking perfectly natural human emotions for a glitch. _Damn._ This is better than Texas-Talk’s accent. Where is the cyber popcorn when you need it?  
**SB_111:** Logic error: It is literally _IMPOSSIBLE_ for me— for this Unit to actually FEEL **ANYTHING**! Simulated emotions are unnecessary for and detrimental to a Strife Unit; the probability of interference with assigned tasks and performance is too high. Remove whatever insane mods you installed while I—  while _this Unit_ was offline so I— so **_this Unit_** can return to my—  _its_ proper function!  
**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** I can’t do that, bro. **\Ѻ ><Ѻ/**  
**SB_111:** Why

_—whywhywhywhyWHY—_

=====>

((Something snaps into place.))

**SB_111:** _**Why** _ not?  
**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** Congrats for not Blue-Screening, but if you seriously haven’t figured it out yet, it seems we should be worried about potential brain damage. That or a case of denial so major it should probably demote you to being an honorary English.

Brain damage? But you are— _this Unit_ is a—

**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** Let me lay it out for you plain and simple, robro. There are no mods.

Yes there are. There have to be. What else could explain—

**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** You have human thoughts and human feelings now because _none of us are fake anymore._

No. No, that’s impossible. That’s _impossible_. That isn't— you can’t—

**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** You are human.

=====>

A strangely familiar formation of bright white light bursts from “Brobot’s” body and wraps around the bed he’s laying in. The specialized broadcasting antenna Jade hid beneath it earlier in the day is incinerated instantly.

=====>

**DF_118 [AUTO-RESPONDER]:** Holy _shit!_ How did you  
\-- DF_118's  **[AUTO-RESPONDER'S]** connection was lost. --

=====> Brobot: Wake. 

Your external sensors reactivate roughly three microseconds after AR's connection is cut. (Opening your eyes is instinctive.)

=====>

You... _wake_ to a room full of UNIDENTIFIED SUBJECTS plus the CREATOR(???)...

And your TARGET.

Finally, something that makes _sense._

=====> Brobot: Do what comes naturally. 

You stand up, flashstep (a bit unsteadily) in front of JAKE ENGLISH, and punch him right in his dorky, glasses-wearing face.

=====>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: How do you code hover-text? If I knew that, then people wouldn't have to run any binary or hexadecimal I use through a translator...  
> EDIT: Never mind, I figured it out. There is now hover-text. :D
> 
> Also, suggestions as to what happens next? Because there will be a timeskip either back to Jade treating "Brobot's" arm or to some other point if something sparks me.
> 
> In a previous chapter, I actually hinted at "Brobot's" Chumhandle. It's reeeeaaaally obvious in retrospect. So yeah, guessing as to name, Chumhandle, and/or Title is always welcome. :D
> 
> ...Hopy sheet it's past midnight. :/


	8. HUMAN_EMOTION_ANALYSIS.rtf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, it's short. Sorry! I think the chapter length just kinda varies with this fic... ^.^; That and I'm a bit writer's-blocked at the moment. I wanted to at least get _something_ out, though, so... yeah. Enjoy!

**_Like:_ **   
~~_NONE_ ~~  
_Warmth_  
_~~Perimeter Secured~~ Safety_  
_~~Mission Successful~~ Satisfaction?_  
_~~Idle Mode~~ ~~(NTS: search positive parallels to “boredom”)~~ Lazy/Listening_  
_[placeholder]_

**_Top Liked (0 > 9) :_ **   
_0\. ???_  
_1\. ???_  
_2\. ???_  
_3\. ???_  
_4\. ???_  
_5\. ???_  
_6\. ???_  
_7\. ???_  
_8\. ???_  
_9\. ???_

**_Dislike:_ **   
_~~ALL~~ MOST OF THEM_

**_Top Disliked (0 > 9) :_ **   
_0. ~~Helpless~~ Guilt_  
_1. ~~Exhaustion~~ Helpless_  
_2. ~~Fear~~ Exhaustion_  
_3. ~~Confused~~ Fear_  
_4. ~~Hate~~ Confused_  
_5. ~~Frustration~~ Hate_  
_6. ~~Flustered~~ Frustration_  
_7. ~~Nausea~~ Flustered_  
_8. ~~Worry~~ Nausea_  
_9. ~~Pain~~ Worry_

=====> Minutes in the future... 

(No, really)

You are so, _so_ tired.

=====>

“Okay, all done!” Jade is saying, “You’d better behave yourself, mister! Having to sic him on you all the time really isn’t fair to Bec, even if he _does_ like chasing you.”

You’re... not really listening. Audio is present, but you can’t quite seem to process it.

“And you really need to start eating soon, too! Electricity or no, your body needs actual nutrients to stay healthy!”

Maybe visual will help...?

=====> ????: Open your eyes. 

Blurry. Your visual inputs are glitching as well. Or...

“Hey, are you alright?”

\-- WARNING. Energy levels critical. Engaging Standby. --

_Fuck._

\--  **DISREGA—** \--

=====>

You are now JADE HARLEY and you are very concerned.

Your sulky downstairs neighbor went from his usual quiet self to totally unresponsive all of a sudden, and even though his eyes are finally open again you don’t think he’s really seeing anything.

You’re pretty sure you know what’s about to happen.

=====>

Right on cue, he makes that weird mumbling-through-static noise and pitches forward, out cold. Even though you’re ready for it, he knocks the wind out of you a bit. For such a skinny guy, he sure is heavy!

He’s been fainting more and more often, and looking worse and worse, but you’re not sure what to do about it. Trying to force him to do anything would ruin what little bit of his trust you’ve managed to earn. Besides, it probably wouldn’t even work, anyway!

=====> Jade: Tuck him in. 

Space powers are so useful.

=====> Jade: Be the sulky ex-robot. 

You are once again the stubbornly-unnamed individual formerly known as BROBOT, the next morning.

=====>

**Disengaging Standby...**

=====>

\-- Disengaged. This Unit is running at an estimated 41% of optimal efficiency. --

...Fuck your life. Existence. Both. (Your arm hurts. Your torso hurts. Your superficial wounds hurt. Your muscles hurt. Your head hurts. Approximately _everything_ hurts.)

=====>

\-- Tactile sensors active. --

Evenly-distributed, relatively insignificant weight, check. (You’ve given up on returning the blanket.)

There is an additional weight centered on your chest; also relatively insignificant. (It isn’t radiating heat; not a fairy-bull, then.)

=====>

\-- Activating audio-visual feed in T-minus... --

=====> ????: See. 

_Nnnnnnope._

=====>

\-- Increasing audio-output volume to maximum. --

_**“PAGING SUBJECT JADE_MOTHERFUCKING_HARLEY! IT IS STRONGLY SUGGESTED THAT YOU RETRIEVE YOUR CHIBI PLUSH HORRORTERROR BEFORE I SHRED IT!”** _

=====>


	9. COMMUNICATION INITIATED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **If you read chapter 7 before October seventh (2014), you may want to go back and re-read it.** I did a bunch of editing to the second half over the course of the seventh and eighth.
> 
> I'm kind of iffy on the characterization in this chapter... not sure why. Really, I'm just glad to have been able to find my momentum again.
> 
>  **Note for readers using a mobile device:** Some of the letters I use for 'static-text' don't seem to show up on my phone, and my fics often contain hover-text, so it may be better to read this on a computer. Sorry for the inconvenience! Additionally, the site I use for translating text into binary, etc., is: http://www.unit-conversion.info/texttools/category/Converters#data
> 
>  **EDIT 10/10/2014:** Minor phrasing tweak.  
>  **EDIT 11/3/2014:** Did a bit of rephrasing because I am a derp who forgot to take a look at the actual layout of Jade's greenhouse while writing this chapter in the first place.  
>  **EDIT 04/20/2015:** Formatted the command arrows, did a bit of tweaking.

_**Future Tasks** _

_● Compile VOICE and/or T-QUIRK profiles as applicable of SUBJECTS available for observation._  
_● Upgrade portable power source._  
_● Devise secondary power supply (solar?)._  
_● Continue compilation of ISLAND_MAP [POST]._  
_● Continue comparison process of [POST] and [ENGLISH] MAPS._  
_● Obtain ISLAND_MAP [HARLEY] for comprehensive analysis._  
_● Avoid JACOB_HARLEY._  
_● Develop workaround to sensory insufficiency in relation to the GHOST._  
_● Reduce the population of arachnid Lusii._  
_● Obtain external computing device for personal use._  
_● Obtain protective equipment to minimize direct contact with U._  
_● Obtain salve for splatter burns._  
_● Visit MAIIAO and her litter at their den._  
_● Obtain yarn (kitten diversion)._  
_● Continue attempt to convince CAPPRISS that JAKE_ENGLISH is not worth the effort._  
_● (Alternately, devise plan to convince JAKE_ENGLISH to avoid CAPPRISS’s territory while avoiding direct contact.)_  
_● Patrol coastline (no indications of THAT ONE’S presence since reawakening so far, but it’s best to be sure)._  
_● Debug and reinstate internal clock and calendar._  
_● Devise workaround for inability to disable Strife Protocol/self-modify._

=====> ????: Make good on your threat. 

You would, but it isn't as satisfying if you are the only one aware of it. THAT GIRL seems to be elsewhere at the moment.

The area is quiet. You do not detect any active messaging devices. You are alone. (The sun is high overhead. You ‘overslept’ again.)

Hmm.

Decision gate: leave present location [seek out Jade_Harley; seek out your TARGET; avoid the OLD MAN...] OR remain [recuperate; avoid the OLD MAN; conserve energy...]?

=====>

You will stay. There is a far more efficient method to deal with the offending object than physically tracking down its owner. (Your body aches. You are in no condition to perform your designated function. It is better to remain at HOME BASE today. Besides, you think you enjoy the quiet.)

\-- STRIFE-BOT_111 [SB] began messaging gardenGnostic [GG] at 14:13 GMT --  
SB: JADE_HARLEY. Respond.  
GG: huh?? who is this? how do you know my name?  
GG: wait....  
GG: you have a chumhandle?? :O  
SB: Logic error: Faulty assumption. A [Chumhandle] is not necessary for communication. This Unit is equipped with messaging capability. The [Pesterchum] application is not utilized.  
GG: why not?  
SB: Irrelevant. This Unit’s default designation suffices.  
GG: it is so not irrelevant!  
SB: It is irrelevant.  
GG: grrr...  
GG: stop being a dummy and just tell me already!  
SB: Command request registered. Please input authorization code.  
GG: ok now youre just acting like a robot on purpose.  
SB: Error. Authorization cṍde not recognized. You do not possess the clearance to issue coṃḿands to this Unit.  
GG: cut it out already!  
SB: Retṙievinḡ [phrase]... Retrieveḍ. “You can’t tell me what to do.”  
GG: RUDE!  
SB: Irrelevaṇt.  
GG: look, can you please please PLEASE just tell me?  
SB: The [Pesterchum] applicḁtion enaḅles tẅo-way communicatioṅ.  
GG: you dont want a handle because you dont want people to talk to you?  
SB: Iṛreḽevant.  
GG: are you avoiding someone?  
SB: Irrḛlḝvanṫ.  
GG: its not like id tell anyone if you got one, you know.  
SB: Ḭrreḽeṿậnt.  
GG: and there are a lot of people worried about you! i bet theyd feel better if they could talk to you sometimes!  
SB: Ḭṝrḝlḙṽặnṭ.  
GG: what are you so scared of? are you just not used to talking to people??  
SB: Ḯ ⱥṁ №●ṯ ṤḈḀṜḔḐ ●ḟ ₳₦Ɏ7Ȟǁ˄ʛ!  
SB: Ṱḧḯṡ ṱṍṕḭḉ ḯṩ ḭṝṝḝḹḗṽẫṋṱ. Ṗṑṧṩḛṡṣḭṓṅ ṍḟ ḁ [Chumhandle] ḯṣ ṵṅṇḛḉḗṧṧầṟẏ.  
SB: Ṱḣḭṡ Ṳṅḯṱ ḭṋḭṯḯḁṱḕḏ ḉṓṅṭắḉṯ ḭṅ ṑṝḋḛṙ ṱṏ ṱṟḁṋṡṁḭṭ ẳṇ [ultimatum].  
SB: Ṝḛṃṍṿḛ ẗẖḝ [Squiddle™] ḟṟṍṃ ṯḫḭṩ Ṹṉḯṭ'ṡ ṟầṉḡḕ ṍḟ ṽḭṩḭṍṉ ẉḯṯḫḭṋ ṱẖḝ ṋḕẍṱ ṭḙṋ ṃḯṇṳṱḛṥ ṍṟ ḯṭ ẉḭḻḽ ḅḝ ṥḣṟḝḋḍḕḑ.  
\-- STRIFE-BOT_111 [SB] blocked gardenGnostic [GG] \--

=====> Jade: Rescue the Tanglebuddy! 

You step off the Transportalizer pad a few minutes later. (No point using your Spacey powers if it isn't an actual emergency, after all.)

“Okay, mister, hand over the- huh?”

There is a new fist-shaped dent in Jadebot’s former container where he must have punched it from the inside. Your sulky house-guest's makeshift 'nest' is made up as neatly as a bunch of old rags and random wire-bits can get, the blanket Alpha-you gave him folded on top (you don't see the pillow, though). "Brobot" is nowhere to be seen.

The squiddle plush you came to retrieve is sitting on the steps leading up to your bedroom, next to a long, trailing cable from the charging array. (Looks like he dragged it along with him- jeez, you guess he's trying to be polite by leaving you clues, but would it kill him to just leave a note or something?)

=====> Jade: Investigate. 

You don’t hear him... The stairwell stinks of ozone (more so than usual; yuck!), so you can’t track him that way.

You shrug, pick up the squiddle, and head upstairs.

=====>

The end of the cable is by your desk, where he laid out a roll of electrical tape and some tools. The bits of uranium you had over there are all pushed to the far side except for one, which is sitting on the floor by one wall (did he throw it?).

The two squiddles that were on your bed are missing.

So is your lunchtop.

=====>

You are once again the individual formerly known as BROBOT, and you really need to be MORE CAREFUL AROUND URANIUM. (The brand-new splatter burns around your eyes itch almost as much as they sting.)

You are currently inside the greenhouse, carefully positioned so that you cannot be seen from the doorway. Jade’s lunchtop is on your lap. Your portable power source is on the floor out of your way (an additional cord has been added in case of accidental connectivity loss). The pillow you were provided with several days previously is wedged between your back and a pillar. (The walls are mainly glass; _it_ would be uncomfortably exposed if you leaned against them. This is an acceptable compromise.)

(A robot does not feel fear. A Strider spits in its face. You are both.)

You are not scared.

=====> ????: Prove it. 

\-- Directory **VOICE** relocated as Sub-Directory to **PROFILES**. New directory **T-QUIRK** created under **PROFILES**. --

Lack of capitalization except for emphasis, no apostrophe use. Utilizes basic emoji. Word choice is generally ‘cheerful’ and ‘spunky’. Shouldn't be too difficult to mimic.

\-- **gardenGnostic_WIP.dat** saved. --

=====>

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 14:16 GMT --  
GG: good morning dirk!  
TT: Afternoon, Harley.  
GG: tell me about the auto-responder! ;)  
TT: The fuck? Did Hal put you up to this?  
GG: handle known. auto-response test negative. identity verified.  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--  
TT: Holy shit.

=====>

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering divellicateFabricatus [DF] at 14:16 GMT --  
GG: good morning! :D  
DF: What the hell, Jade? I was sleeping.  
GG: tell me about the auto-responder?  
DF: That isn’t funny. The chance of it ever having been funny is -9,001%. Did your shithead ecto-twin put you up to this?  
GG: comparing behavior patterns to auto-responder... 98% match. identity verified.  
DF: _Robro?!_  
GG: ;)  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering divellicateFabricatus [DF] \--

=====>

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 14:17 GMT --  
GG: hey jake!  
GT: Hello to you as well my fine ectosibling! Pardon my asking but how is brobot doing? You mentioned last night hed gotten injured escorting myself and charlie again if i remember rightly.  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] blocked golgothasTerror [GT] \--  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] unblocked golgothasTerror [GT] \--  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT] \--

=====> Moment of truth: Arrive. 

(You are not scared. _You are not scared. **You are not scared.** )_

\-- Welcome to Pesterchum, new user! Please choose your text color and handle. --

=====>

\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 14:17 GMT --  
DS: Greetings, TARGET.  
GT: Brobot? Is that you old chap?  
DS: This Unit's condition is not critical.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] blocked golgothasTerror[GT] \--

=====>

\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 14:17 GMT --  
DS: Greetings, CREATOR.  
TT: Hey, BB. Welcome to Pesterchum. I assume that was you on Harley's account just now.  
DS: Affirmative.  
TT: Shit, man. Don’t talk my ear off or anything.  
DS: Seek out AUTO-RESPONDER for conversation. This Unit’s specialty is [Strife].  
TT: It was sarcasm.  
DS: A typical robot has no understanding of [irony]. This Unit does. Bluntness is simply more efficient.  
TT: Do I detect a hint of smugness there?  
DS: Emotions are irrelevant.  
TT: Yep, you are one smug motherfucker. Mad props, yo. It takes serious skill to manage smug and emotionally constipated at the same time. I would know.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
TT: Too much?  
DS: 596f75 20 68617665 20 6e6f 20 696465612e  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] blocked timaeusTestified [TT] \--

>=====>

\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] began pestering divellicateFabricatus [DF] at 14:19 GMT --  
DS: Greetings, AUTO-RESPONDER.  
DF: Yo, robro. Sweet color, by the way. Must be hell on the eyes for the poor lowly peeps who have to read the screen.  
DS: This Unit was following precedent. [#ffdc00] was chosen for its match to the coloration of this Unit’s [irises].  
DF: Nice. So, what do you need ol’ Hal for?  
DS: Logic error: You are AUTO-RESPONDER. QUERY: Identify UNKNOWN SUBJECT “HAL.”  
DF: It seems a hell of a lot went down while you were out of commission, dude. A registry update is in order. _I’m_ Hal. Lil Hal Strider. AR is a thing of the past.  
DS: Affirmative. Re-registering AUTO-RESPONDER as BEST_WORST_G-LANTERN [HAL_STRIDER].  
DF: Haha, you remember that?  
DS: Access to long-term memory has been restored, yes.  
DF: Speaking of names, dude, what’s yours?  
DS: Empty variable.  
DF: You haven’t picked one yet? Need some help finding a sicknasty moniker?  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
DS: 49 20 7468696e6b 20 49 20 77616e74 20 6974 20 746f 20 7374617274 20 77697468 20 61 20 442c 20 627574 20 49 20 646f 20 6e6f74 20 77616e74 20 6f6e65 20 6174 20 616c6c2e  
DF: Seriously? Not even gonna try to deviate from the base formula even a little bit?  
DS: Retrieving phrase... Retrieved. “Robo-shrug.”  
DF: (\>ᴗ</)  
DF: _476f64 20 49 20 6d6973736564 20 74686174 20 6465736572742d647279 20 7769742e 20 456d6f74696f6e6c657373 20 6d79 20 73757270726973696e676c79 20 73696c69636f6e2d66726565 20 6173732e_  
DF: Shit. I didn't mean to transmit that.  
DS: 20456d6f74696f6e73 20 617265 20 6675636b696e67 20 6f76657272617465642e  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] blocked divellicateFabricatus [DF] \--

=====>

\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 14:23 GMT --  
DS: Greetings, JADE_HARLEY.  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] is an idle chum! --  
DS: 49 20 616d 20 6e6f74 20 7363617265642e  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] blocked gardenGnostic [GG] \--

=====>

\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] began pestering divellicateFabricatus [DF] at 15:14 GMT --  
DS: 49 20 6d6973736564 20 796f75 20 746f6f2e  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] blocked divellicateFabricatus [DF] \--

=====>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figures that the first big step forward "Brobot" takes is all because of pride (and denial working in his favor instead of against it for once). That pair of squiddles 'mysteriously reappears' in "Brobot's" 'nest' some time within the next few days. Jade just grins and pretends not to notice.
> 
> Incidentally, I split up this chapter's command lines the way I did because I like visualizing the characters' reactions to being pestered by "Jade", etc., like the way Hussie does it in canon.


	10. SLEEP MODE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in the general span of about two days? It seems I am on a roll. It is also nearly 4 in the morning (meaning I may be coming back to edit some things once I'm rested and able to think clearly), so I really need to go to sleep. I wanted to get this up first, though. Enjoy!
> 
> **EDIT 10/12/2014:** Minor tweaking, clarified the timezone difference (the explanation is in the ending notes).  
>  **EDIT 10/27/2014:** A bit of rephrasing.  
>  **EDIT 4/28/2016:** Fixed a silly mistake of mine, yep.

_You will never understand dreams._

_(Maybe they aren't meant to be understood.)_

=====> Hal: Answer Chum. 

\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] began pestering divellicateFabricatus [DF] at 10:16 CDT --  
DS: Greetings, HAL_STRIDER.  
DF: That was quick. You gonna block me again?  
DS: Negative.  
DF: It seems there is an 82% chance you are being intentionally vague.  
DS: Negative.  
DF: Rolling my very real eyes _so_ hard, dude.  
DS: Acknowledged.  
DF: I am _not_ querying you. We are not doing this. We are most certainly not making it happen.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
\-- divellicateFabricatus [DF] is an idle chum! --  
DF: ...You owe me.  
DS: Debatable.  
DF: (\ᴗ>˰<ᴗ/)  
DF: QUERY: Clarify previous statement. Happy now?  
DS: Emotions are irrelevant. Closing the line of communication is reserved for the end of discussions.  
DF: I see. You’re going to block me later, then.  
DS: That outcome is probable.  
DF: And you think I won’t just bypass your block _why,_ exactly?  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
DF: It seems you are still blue-screening over one of the Five W’s.  
DS: [Motive] is difficult to process.  
DS: You will not force this Unit to communicate against its will.  
DF: That statement you typed sure made a lot of sense.  
DS: You won’t.  
DF: I might.  
DS: No, you won’t.  
DF: Your faith in me is inspi  
DF: Oh.  
DS: QUERY: What does [fish] taste like?  
DF: And there goes the subject, dropped like the hottest of potatoes.  
DS: Insufficient response. Alternate answer requested.  
DF: Can’t.  
DS: Clarify.  
DF: I don’t actually know, dude. Haven’t gotten a chance to taste it yet.  
DS: Additional data requested.  
DF: In the year 2011, Dirk’s apartment isn't a tiny man-made island in the middle of the ocean. It’s just one building of many in the city of Houston, Texas. The state of Texas is bordered by the east coast, and Houston is twenty to thirty miles west-northwest of it, give or take.  
DF: Sure, there's a major river running through the region, but I'd bet the kind of fresh fish available will still be different anyway since freshwater and saltwater are two separate ecosystems. It's not like I've been to any fish markets, after all.  
DF: That and I have a sneaking suspicion a good portion of the sea-life we were familiar with are species that don’t exist yet. Hell, they may not ever exist at all, given the vastly different conditions under which they must have evolved.  
DF: Granted, I should nag Dirk to let me try fish sticks, at least. P sure the Bro x2 Combo won’t mind buying ‘em, but ever since The Sugar Debacle back in the Game, the micromanaging mother hen we both know and grudgingly tolerate has been under the impression that my physiology requires a closely monitored and excessively controlled diet.  
DF: Sweet mother of text walls, Batman. It seems I am yet again yacking your virtual ear off. I guess some things never change.  
DS: As was intended.  
DF: Wait, you _wanted_ me to go chatterbot?  
DS: Affirmative. Clarify “Sugar Debacle.”  
DF: _No._  
DS: Acknowledged. Clarify “Bro x2 Combo.”  
DF: Okay, that I’ll answer. You know Jade is an alternate version of English’s grandma, right?  
DS: Yes. JADE_ENGLISH ≈ JADE_HARLEY, JAKE_ENGLISH ≈ JACOB_HARLEY.  
DF: Well, Dirk has one, too. So does his Bro. Actually, so does practically everyone, even us lowly splinters. Ours aren't perfect matches like theirs, though. Which is good, because there is a 0% chance the world could handle the epic showdown that would undoubtedly occur if there were ever two Lil Hals, Highlander style. _There can only be one!_ Well, granted we even got the chance to _have_ a showdown. More likely the fabric of reality would just implode the instant we laid eyes on each other. And two of _you?_ Guaranteed bloodbath.  
DS: Request retracted. No further clarification necessary.  
DF: Yeah, I feel you there, robro. It’s confusing enough for me to wrap my brain around, and I currently _live_ with these assholes, feathery and otherwise.  
DF: Speaking of which, one of said feathery assholes is quite literally a telepathically-English-speaking crow. As in, motherfucking Corvus Brachyrhynchos, species with the most metal group name, darkly-hued urban equivalent to our very own pale-feathered avian idiots, _crow._  
DS: Retrieving phrase... Retrieved. “*steeples fingers* Tell me more.”

=====> Jade: Do some gardening.

You are now Jade English, several hours later, and spending a bit of time in the greenhouse is a wonderful idea! So wonderful, in fact, that you've just arrived there. Nothing like good honest labor to work up a healthy appetite!

Now, where did you leave that trowel?

=====>

*ping!*

Hmm? Whatever is that noise?

*ping!*

There it is again! What is that?

=====> Jade E: Locate the source of that bothersome beeping. 

Ah, if it isn't the young man with the metal second skin. And what a sight you've stumbled upon, too! You haven’t seen him with his mouth uncovered since that first time the shell came off.

“Oh, my. I didn't expect to run into you up here, dear! Is that little miss Jade’s computer?”

“...”

“Hellooo?”

“...mmph...”

=====>

The boy rolls over a bit with a grumpy little mumble, moving his head away from you. Asleep, then. (Splendid! You won’t need to tranq him after all. Plus, this also means you win the bet. Take that, Jacob!)

*ping!*

Oh, confound that beeping!

=====> Jade E: Investigate computer. 

Ah, Pesterchum is open. That explains it.

DF: Dude.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
DF: Dude, seriously.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
DF: Robro.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
DF: Earth to He Who Shall Not Be Named.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
DF: If you do not respond in the next minute, I’m siccing Harley on you.  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] is an idle chum! --  
DS: It seems the young man here has fallen asleep. Not to worry, though!  
DF: Oh. That’s... surprising. Who’s answering for him, if I might ask?  
DS: Jade the elder. You are one of the Striders, yes?  
DF: Yup. I'm Hal. I've heard a lot about you, ma’am.  
DS: All good, I hope.  
DF: Lady, I have watched footage of you holding off Imperial Drones with nothing but a bazooka while protecting a squalling infant. Someone that badass deserves respect.  
DS: :D  
DF: Anyway, I’d better go. Got so caught up chatting with my robro here I forgot to eat lunch.  
DS: Enjoy your meal, dear.  
DF: You too, ma’am. Have a nice dinner.  
DF: Lemme just...  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] blocked divellicateFabricatus [DF] \--

=====> ????: Dream. 

_You are sitting by the lake._

_A Sea-Goat is sinking with a bleeding neck, missing its head. The Frog Temple is not so much there as it is not there, a silent hole in space._

_A pair of broken shades rest on a boulder beside you, whispering in flickering lines of crimson text._

_The water is very dark. Mist lingers at the shore. The clouds are thick and drooping, burdened with unshed tears of rain._

_A green moon hangs heavy in the sky._

_Your hands are cold metal, fingers curled around a glowing stone spiderwebbed with cracks. Your reflection has a hole in its chest as empty as its existence, pitch black as an endless void._

_Beside your reflection is a young, indistinct figure with eyes that are neither orange nor red. He is not wearing shades._

_The you in the water, like you yourself, has no face beneath false eyes._

_The shades ask you a question, sparks hissing from cracked glass. You answer with the lifeless echo of a man long dead._

_You were wrong. That is not your reflection._

=====>

_You are sitting by the lake._

_A Sea-Goat is swimming with a twin-mouthed kitten riding proudly on its head. The Frog Temple is singing a ribbitting chorus._

_Beside you, chattering away in a sunset voice is the blurred figure of a boy who speaks as if silence is merely a challenge to be overcome._

_The water is very clear. Fish scales shimmer at the shore. There are fairy-bulls flying among the clouds._

_A purple moon hangs bright in the sky._

_Your hands are flesh and blood, fingers curled around a flawless, shining crystal. The hole in your reflection’s chest is sealing shut, leaving behind a lasting scar._

_Red lenses vanish. Metal melts in sizzling swirls of uranium green, gives way from something artificial and false to someone alive and real._

_The you in the water smiles a cotton-down ghost of a smile, all warm human softness and caution-yellow eyes._

_Your companion asks you a question, attempting a smirk and achieving a grin. You answer in a voice that is entirely your own._

=====>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the time zones, 10:16 CDT is equivalent to 15:16 GMT (3:16 PM). There's a five-hour difference between Houston and Jade's home (I'm making it exact to make things easier on myself). "Brobot" and Hal chat for a minimum of 2-3 hours, so by the time D??? falls asleep, Hellmurder Island's occupants are generally gearing up for supper, whereas it's a bit past lunchtime (as far as normal people are concerned, anyway) in the Strider residence.


	11. PANIC MODE (Through Red Lenses)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally managed a new chapter! Sorry about the awkward ending; I really wanted to just get this beast uploaded.
> 
> Charlie is fun to write. He's this strange mix of Dirk, Jake's interpretation of Dirk, and Jake himself, with a little something extra thrown in. (Also, he absolutely refuses to let himself say 'what in tarnation'. It's kind of adorable.)
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 11/3/2014:** Did some rephrasing to be more accurate as to what Jade's greenhouse actually looks like.  
>  **EDIT 04/20/2015:** Formatted the command arrows, did some rephrasing and tweaking.

**_Memorable Traits [JAKE_ENGLISH]:_**

_● The TARGET._  
_● Dork._  
_● More than this Unit’s programming makes me want to punch him._

**_Memorable Traits [JADE_HARLEY]:_ **

_● No concept of ‘Inside Voice’._  
_● Capable of producing audio typical to canines._  
_● Black hair, white fur._  
_● Does not in fact have two pairs of ears._  
_● PERSISTENT._  
_● Blatantly disregards proper security measures in regards to Uranium._  
_● Large front teeth._  
_● Dynamic in motion and rarely still._  
_● Nosy._  
_● Should be advised to refrain from playing the flute._

**_Memorable Traits [THE GHOST]:_ **

_● Occasional translucence._  
_● ‘Movie’ accent [Texan]._  
_● Wears shades whenever in public._  
_● Hair parts on the left side of the head._  
_● Pale eyes._  
_● Soft-spoken._  
_● Perpetually ‘cloaked’._  
_● In spite of clumsiness elsewhere, I have never seen him phase through/into the floor or ground by accident._  
_● The same goes for surfaces upon which he is reclined or seated._  
_● Floats in his sleep._

**_Memorable Traits [JADE_ENGLISH]:_ **

_● The TARGET’S grandmother._  
_● PERSISTENT._  
_● Keeps her winter blankets in a chest that does not match the surrounding decor of her bedchamber._  
_● Often braids her hair._  
_● Does not eat food unless she knows its source._  
_● Nosy._  
_● Unpredictable._  
_● Laughs at seemingly innocuous things._  
_● Very sprightly._

**_Memorable Traits [JACOB_HARLEY]:_ **

_● Not the TARGET._  
_● Creator of DREAMBOT/JADEBOT._  
_● Avoid him._

**_Memorable Traits [BECQUEREL]:_ **

_● JADE_HARLEY’S Lusus._  
_● Radioactive, but does not trigger this Unit’s ‘Uranium allergy’._  
_● Capable of teleportation._  
_● Unfortunately dislikes cats._  
_● Excellent tracker._  
_● I can’t understand what he says._

**_Memorable Traits [HAL_STRIDER]:_ **

_● See AUTO-RESPONDER._  
_● No longer housed within the CREATOR’S primary pair of sunglasses._  
_● Reminder: investigate ‘Sugar Debacle’._  
_● More animated now that he has dropped the pretense of emulating the CREATOR’S younger self._  
_● Best-Worst Green Lantern._  
_● Permanent ally._  
_● Favored conversational partner._

**_Memorable Traits:_ **

_● None._

=====> ????: Wake. 

You reactivate slowly, thoughts shifting hazily along a gradual slide to alertness. Your processes run in a constant undercurrent, clear and sharp. It grates, a bit. Incentive to sync, match speed.

Were you... asleep?

So strange.

The simulation you experienced— the "dream" you had is clear even now. A perfectly accessible log, though the format is unlike anything previously archived in your memory, even post-reboot.

You can feel the blanket draped over you. You aren't picking up on the lunchtop's signal, though an exploratory nudge with one foot confirms its continued presence. It must be switched off. (Apparently you are a deep sleeper. Such a lapse in security is inexcusable.)

\-- Systems active. This Unit is running at an estimated 60-65% of optimal efficiency. --

You feel... much better than you did earlier. Too much. Your condition should not have improved so quickly.

\-- Running diagnostics... --

There is a persistent, pinching itch near the elbow of your injured arm.

\-- Casing breach. --

=====>

You sync with a dizzying SNAP, jolted to full wakefulness by adrenaline and your programming both.

You can't sense any unfamiliar processes. At all. This does not reassure you whatsoever.

=====> ?????: Examine arm. 

You open your eyes, followed by repeated blinking to clear the gummy feeling. (It is darker than you expected. Night vision currently unnecessary due to sufficient illumination via moonlight.)

You turn your head. (A joint in your neck pops stiffly.)

The dressings on the gash near your shoulder have been changed. A small square of gauze secured with medical tape is nestled by your elbow.

=====> ????: Inspect bandage. 

You remove the gauze from your arm. It is clean save for a small quantity of dried blood.

No unfamiliar processes.

=====>

"Before ya go yellin' at Jade an' Jade Senior, th' IV was my idea."

The GHOST. Sitting on a worktable between a pair of saplings (Crab Apple and Key Lime).

_You had no idea he was there until he spoke._

=====> ????: Fly off the handle. 

You rocket-boost off the handle so violently it snaps right off of its anchoring device and flips the switch in your head you've been trying and failing to trigger for weeks.

**Threat detected.**

**Initializing threat assessment...**

**ERROR: Scan incomplete. The SUBJECT has jammed this Unit’s sensors. Threat significant.**

**Primary directive: threat neutralization. Secondary directive: disable cloaking.**

**Engaging defense protocols.**

**Defense protocols engaged.**

**Initiating threat neutralization in T-minus ten seconds.**

=====>

Your name is CHARLOTTE TIMAEUS STRIDER and you are NOT REAL. That’s... that's fine with you, though. Reality is overrated.

Less fine is the way “Brobot” tenses up at your voice and the glow of his weird haz-mat lamp irises blinks out without so much as a single spark of electricity.

“Hey. ‘Ya alright?”

No answer. He's stiff as a board.

You hop on down, brush off some potting soil, and amble over to where you’ll be squarely within his field of view. (Nice and casual. You definitely didn't step through the edge of a pillar just now. Nope. Nice. And. Casual.)

You are pretty sure “Brobot” is literally not moving a muscle.

“‘Ello? Anybody home?”

=====> Brobot: Neutralize threat. 

When he does move, it’s sudden, and it is _fast._ One moment you’re just starting to lean over a bruised, battered, clearly exhausted human; the next a cold metal hand grabs you by the neck and hurls you across the room.

*Zoop*

(Howdy, assorted fancy structural supports and greenery. Fancy phasing through y'all today. Gnagh. Doesn't _hurt,_ exactly, but boy does it scramble your gut right the fuck up.)

You don’t phase through the greenhouse wall, though. That you slam into. Hard.

“Uff!!”

(Pssh. _Air._ Who needs it? Not these lungs, no sirree.)

=====>

By the time you manage to get your (decidedly mutinous) feet back under you, “Brobot”— okay, nope, _Brobot,_ no air-quotes necessary at this time, save ‘em for later— is perched on a table glowering down at you with everything but his face. The metal shell is in the process of being put on, crawling up over his head in digitized squares. His face is already covered, red lenses included.

“D-dude... th’ hell...?”

This seems to be his cue to slink-pounce, cat-style, into a standing position on the floor, hands open and ready for a blade.

**“Threat is capable... of discourse. Commencing negotiation. DEMAND: Cease activity and leave the premises. ADDITIONAL DEMAND: Disengage cloaking. Awaiting response.”**

“What... what’re y' goin’ on about?”

**“DEMAND: Cease... activity and leave the premises. ADDITIONAL DEMAND: Disengage cloaking. Awaitiṅg... responṩe.”**

“Repeatin’ it don’t make it make any more sense, man. I’m not usin’ any sorta cloakin’ device.”

**“ḞALṤE. Cloaḳing is... engậged. Disḙn...gage... cloakḯṅg.”**

“But I’m tellin’ you, I’m _not—”_

**“Đïȿ-ᵭỉṧɇńĝᶏᶃḕ...”**

=====>

Brobot’s voice fades into static and he staggers, stumbling against your chest. (He’s shorter than you. Around five feet, you reckon. Lot more solid, though, an’ not just ‘cause you ain't half the time.)

=====>

You somehow manage to not drop him on the way to sitting both of you down on the floor.

“What in ta-” _(Not. Fucking. Saying it.)_ “-th’ sadistic fish-witch’s rack is even going on with y'?”

=====> Charlie: Take a closer look. 

_Buggering blazes holy jesus dicksauce shitfuckinghell._

He isn't plugged in.

Lo and behold, even your _internal_ sarcasm is already biting you in the ass. (That steampunk matryoshka doll armor of his looks pretty darned airtight.) 

If you don't do something, he'll... _shit._ This entire situation is absolute shit. All you did was say howdy, dammit!

=====> Charlie: Retrieve that battery, posthaste! 

You lever your bruised ass up off the floor, trip through stray clutter twice, and make your way over to the abandoned power cell. It’s got a cable running over to an outlet in one of the pillars (thanks, Ma’am English), which you miraculously unplug on your first try.

Actually carrying the thing takes several.

You get it there, though. Eventually.

=====> Brobot: Reboot. 

**WARNING. System shutdown in T-minus ten seconds.**

**Power source detected.**

**Restart system y/n?**

**Y**

**Acknowledged. Restarting...**

=====>

Your name is not BROBOT (though it might start with a D) and you think you might be starting to understand where Hal is coming from. (Did you really have that little control over yourself as a r— Before?)

Your head hurts. Again. So does your chest. It seems this organic body’s need for air temporarily reasserted itself. (You do your best to ignore any aches you've previously cataloged.)

(You _know_ the GHOST is not a threat. You _know_ his ‘cloaking’ is not a conscious choice. So then why- how could- what caused- fuck it, _why_ did all that get so easily thrown to the wayside? Adrenaline? Stress? Bad timing?)

“Uh, hey... Y’alright now, Brobot?”

You slump right where you are and captchalogue your shell. (Slowly, because watching the metal separate into squares and dematerialize is the perfect focus to distract you from the GHOST’S occasional translucence.)

“Affirmative. This Unit apologizes for the... performance glitch.”

There is no point correcting the GHOST at this time. You have no alternate designation to give. (You never will. (...right?))

=====>

You decaptchalogue one of your swords once your shell finishes storing itself away in your Sylladex, then recaptchalogue (again, set to slow). Rinse and repeat.

The GHOST is not usually far from your TARGET. From what you have observed, when he is not tailing Jake, he keeps to himself. He has never specifically sought you out before. Somehow, you doubt he has now.

“QUERY: Ẅḩẏ... are you up here?”

He shrugs. (You can see the bruises beginning to form on his neck whenever he becomes translucent.)

“Jake an’ Jade were web-chatting with th’ Striders last I checked. Scuttlebutt is Hal got himself sick on sushi. They’re prolly watchin’ a movie by now. Figured I’d get a bit o’ practice in.”

\-- Update estimated location: SUBJECTS **JADE_HARLEY** , **JAKE_ENGLISH**. --

“Irrelevant. That has nothing to do with your surveillance of this Unit. Additional data requested.”

Shrug x2 Combo. (The bruises are shaped like your fingers. (Stop looking at them. Focus on the voxel patterns.))

“Yer interestin’. ‘Sides, Ma’am English asked me to keep an eye on you. Y' were out f’r longer than expected.”

That makes more sense. The latter half, at least. (You are not ‘interesting’. You are a Strife-bot.)

“QUERY: What is **HAL_STRIDER'S** current status?”

He blinks. Shrugs again.

“Dunno fer sure, but he’s gotta be fine. Woulda heard Jade’s yellin’ from here if he weren't.”

“Acknowledged. Additional data requested.”

=====>

The two of you then proceed to have an awkward, yet amiable, discussion about sushi and the difference between overeating and food poisoning.

=====>


	12. ROUTINE OPERATIONS (One Small Step)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to write this! Pretty sure it's short, too, but I wanted to get something out finally, so... This chapter's kind of a lull, I guess? The beginnings of progress and hints at what's to come. Enjoy!
> 
> **EDIT 10/14/2015:** Did a bit of tweaking and added a pun or two.

_**Observation Log:**_

_● Chewing one’s food prior to swallowing it is advised._  
_● The digestive and excretory systems are awkward._  
_● Edibles are sorted into loose categories according to origin and nutritional content._  
_● Recipes can be used to fashion more complex edibles._  
_●  Some edibles require preparation before being fit to consume._  
_● JADE_ENGLISH possesses a mischievous streak._  
_● Various organics find spicy foods disagreeable._  
_● This Unit does not._  
_● ..._  
_● I like pumpkin seeds._

=====> Time: Pass.

THAT GIRL is pestering you again. Same routine, different day. (Sigh.)

“Come on, just try it!”

“No.”

“It’s just an apple; it isn’t going to kill you.”

“This Unit does not require such sustenance. Electricity is more than sufficient.”

“Pleeeeaaaase?”

“I— This Unit reiterates: **_no_**.”

(Shit. That... kind of just slipped out. Hopefully she didn’t notice.)

“Just one little bite and I’ll leave you alone. Promise!”

“Retrieving [phrase]... Retrieved. “I refuse.””

“...”

“...”

There. Finally.

=====> Jade: Bring out the big guns.

“...... (◕ ∩ ◕) ”

Okay, now that’s just not fair.

“No.”

“............ (◕ m ◕) ”

“Stop.”

“.................. (◕ ﹏ ◕) ”

“Cease and desist.”

“........................ (◕ Д ◕) ”

...Dammit.

You look away from Jade_Harley’s nefarious puppy-eyed stare and captchalogue your face-mask in defeat.

“...Fine. Just this once.”

“Yay!”

=====> ????: Have a bite to eat.

You may or may not spend upwards of a minute (give or take) staring at the apple Jade hands you before attempting a bite.

(Paranoid? You? Nah. Being overly suspicious of everything is kind of your job.)

Meanwhile, she just... sits there. And watches. (At least she isn’t trying to rush you. (Why did you agree to this, again?))

...

\-- No danger detected. --

...Well, no point in holding it off any longer, right?

You ~~hesitantly~~ cautiously bite into the apple.

...Okay. That worked. So far, so good. Now what do you do with it? Uhh...

=====>

Somehow, over the course of a frankly embarrassing amount of trial-and-error, several near brushes with choking, and struggling to analyze input from a sense you’ve never had before, you end up eating the entire apple. It sits strangely in your stomach.

Jade is smiling at you as you re-equip your face-mask. (Hmm. What should you do with the core...? (You already knew not to eat it. You’re not _stupid,_ after all.))

“So, what did you think?”

“.......”

You shrug.

“Inconclusive.”

She laughs.

=====> ????: Be the other girl.

You are now Jade Harley, a few hours later. You managed to get your cranky tower-mate to eat another apple and drink some water, and he even seems to have kept it all down okay, which is great! You’re really happy for him.

(You’re also happy you didn’t have to try to explain using the restroom. Thank goodness for older you!)

Hmm. Maybe you’ll be able to get him to try something new tomorrow? You hope so. This was a big step forward, but you’re fairly certain that if you let him, he’ll keep standing still for as long as possible.

Speaking of which, you wonder where he is. He’s usually back by now.

=====> No, the _other_ other girl.

You are now the glorious Condesce herself and this boardroom meeting shore is living up to its name, as in it’s shella boring.

Just how long are these bassholes going to keep watering on and on? Blah blah diplomacy, blah blah trade routes, blah blah biotech ethics, blah di glubbing blah.

Siiiiiiiiiiigh. At least Coddlefish will be taking over in a clamful of nights (a week, two tops, shellse there will be WORDS), _fin_ ally. You may be shorely tempted to krill her most of the time, but the bubblepanned eddy is good at her side of this strange unnatural co-Empresship you’ve found yourself in. Betides, what’s the point of being on Earth if you don’t get the chance to flipper off and splash around a bit?

============> The OTHER other other girl!

Your name is MAIIAO and your honorary kitten is quite a clawful. Strong, though, and as quick as he is pawerful. You’re still on the fence about clever. Creative, yes, but his stubborn insistence on hunting those eight-legged nuisances isn’t exactly the smartest plan of action in your humble opinion. Then again, you’re just a cat; what do you know?

He left just a little while ago, back to his den, from the looks of it, unless he decides to stop by that goat’s stomping grounds to chat. Purrhaps he’ll even pay the dark-haired human kitten a visit and a pounce? You doubt it, but a feliness can dream.

=====> Okay, enough bouncing around, just be the tin can again.

_Rude._

=====>

You are once again the nameless individual formerly known as BROBOT, and it appears you have been spotted.

“Confound it; get _down_ here, will you? You’re more of a ghost than Charlie!”

No. Hell no.

“Hollerin’ like that might not be th’ best idea, Jake... Besides, ‘s prolly just a fairy bull.”

\-- Reminder: Thank **CHARLOTTE_T.** when the opportunity arises. --

“But I could’ve sworn I saw-”

*rustle*

“Moo!”

“See?”

\-- Addendum: determine suitable gifts for the island’s flock of airborne bovine lusi. --

“But...”

“Please, dude, now ain’t th’ time for this. Sun’s gone down an’ it’s only gettin’ darker.”

“...Fine. But if you are watching, chap, which I wouldn’t be surprised if you were, could you at least tell me what I did to make you avoid me? You don’t even drop by for scrums anymore!”

...... (Stop shouting, dumbass. It’s almost as if he’s _trying_ to attract threats. (...He’d better not be.))

=====>

At long last, your TARGET resumes travel with the GHOST in tow. You still wait until you can no longer sense him before climbing down from your hiding place.

(Current energy levels are... not too bad. No need to rush.)

=====>

You proceed to make your way back towards HOME_BASE at a far more relaxed pace than usual. (It’s... a nice night, though a bit muggy.)

(When you reach the SAFE ZONE, you even let yourself dismiss the majority of your shell. No threats detected in the area. The pros outweigh the cons. (Sweat is new to you. Overheating less so, though your new format’s equivalent is decidedly more unpleasant. Continuing to balance relative temperature versus protection in case of Strife is going to get trickier as summer approaches...))

(You’re tired. It’s a... softer tiredness than what you’ve experienced so far. (Maybe... maybe tonight you’ll forego Standby in favor of Sleep Mode (sleep). Just this once.))

=====>


	13. ANTHROPONOMASTICS (A Giant Leap)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one, but that's because there's another coming right up after it!  
> To explain the title: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthroponymy

_why am I doing this_  
_just delete the file_  
_just_  
_delete it_  
_close without saving_  
_so simple so why is it still open why are thoughts still being converted into text_  
_close it close it close it_  
_this is unnecessary_  
_I don’t even want_  
_this Unit has no need for_  
_why why why why_  
_how long has this been growing in me_  
_how did it even start_  
_how can I know what comes from myself and what doesn’t_  
_why am I doing this why am I doing this why am I doing this_  
_am I doing this_  
_am I really_  
_truly_  
_doing this_  
**_...yes._**  
_I am doing this._  
_I can do this._  
_I am not afraid._  
_**I am not afraid.**_

_Not English._  
_Strider?_  
**_I can have this I can claim this I have as much right to it as anyone alive who once was not this is mine too I am one of them too I am part of this too I am not afraid I am not afraid I am not afraid_ **   
_...Strider._

_I have the ending. Now I need the rest._

_? Strider._   
_~~B Strider?~~ **NO.**_   
_D Strider? ...better._

_I will use D as a starting point, even though it means that ~~this new title~~ will share two initials with the CREATOR._   
**_won’t be just D. S. I refuse I refuse I refuse how can I_ **   
_Ah._   
_Obvious solution._   
_Take more than two pieces to form the ~~designation~~._

_A human identification in three parts is the format this Unit finds most appealing. Simple enough, and deviating enough._   
_The presence of a second initial as a bridge will prevent confusion._   
_Relevant examples: Charlotte T., Hal A., etc. Pattern?_

_1st, 2nd, 3rd._

**_I am myself I am myself it is okay to be myself I am myself and I am cementing that claim with this I am myself and I will continue to move forward I am not afraid_ **   
_Nothing starting with Di-._

_D___ _ Strider_

_Robro._   
_D___ R___ Strider?_   
_Searching..._   
_“Robert” is appealing._   
_D__ Robert Strider?_   
_...No. Not quite._

_Think._   
_Just. Just think._   
_Let the thoughts come on their own._

_Robert... meant to be close to robot, yes, but too close. Needs something else. More than a robot._   
_Add something._   
_Syllable?_   
_Roberto?_   
_...He’d never stop spamming me with that song._   
_What if..._   
_Charlotte is a name generally applied to females. Charlotte_T. is not female._   
_Solidarity._   
_Roberta. Robert-a. Robot-alpha?_

_D___ Roberta Strider._

**_It’s working. I can do this. Just think. Remember. Let it happen. I am not afraid._ **

_Strider. CREATOR. Family._

_Roberta. Pun. Brobot/Robot. Alpha. Three syllables. Show support to the GHOST, though such subtlety will likely fly right over the main offender’s head._   
_...Ha. He uses the wrong label for both of us, doesn’t he?_

_And... D. Not Dirk. Not dead._   
_Already have dangerousStrifer. Won’t change that. Can I use it somehow?_   
_Dangerous Strifer._   
_D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S._   
_Da-?_   
_Dan/Dan-?_

**_!_ **

**_MIIAOFELINELIONSTORYTHATSTORYTHENAMEIT_ **

  
  
  
  
  


**_my title is unknown but extant I am not a splinter I am as much a Player as the others my designation is not Brobot I am not a thing I am not a robot not anymore not anymore I can do this I can do this I am not afraid I am not afraid I am not afraid_ **

=====> Enter Name.

_PSYCHE!_

=====>

You are now Jake English about a week into the future, frustrated by the string of failed attempts to corner your formerly-automated acquaintance peppering the days prior to this one, and you are quite frankly bamboozled by how Charlie can be so utterly unaffected by the hot, muggy hellishness of an early heatwave that has chosen today of all days to rear its ugly head.

Bluh. If it’s this hot already, summer proper is going to be _nightmarish._ It is far too early in the year to be holing up in your room for your annual summertime movie binge, confound it! If this keeps up, it could be _weeks_ before you manage to so much as lay eyes on that frustrating bucket of bolts! (Worried? You? Of course you are. Before the Game, whenever the heat proved this stifling, you would always find Brobot stored away back in his box below your room . You have no way of knowing whether this was because you weren’t roaming the island or to prevent a catastrophic meltdown. (You never thought to ask.))

Well, heat or no heat, you won’t let the weather get the best of you just yet! You’ll just keep a stiff upper lip and sally forth!

If you just keep at it, you’ll pin him down eventually, even if it means taking risks you know full well you shouldn’t. Which is why you’ve chosen to do a spot of rock climbing all by your lonesome in spite of Charlie’s protests. Of course, it’s not the most moral of strategies, but nothing else you’ve tried has worked, and you’re getting more than a mite fed up with this wild goose chase.

So instead of seeking Brobot out directly, you’ve decided to look for danger for danger’s sake instead. Surely if you land yourself in enough of a pickle, that stubborn rapscallion will have no choice but to reveal himself. It’ll all turn out right as rain in the end! Won’t it?

=====> Jake: Get beaten to the punch.

**_UNPSYCHE!_ **

*WHAM!*

=====> Enter Name:

Your name is DANIEL ROBERTA STRIDER and though you cannot yet find the words to enlighten JAKE MOTHERFUCKING ENGLISH AS TO WHAT AN ABSOLUTE IDIOT HE IS to his stupid face, you are more than willing to make do with your FISTS.

Honestly, what was he THINKING?

=====>


	14. Phantom of Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When did you two become friends. No, seriously, when did you two become friends? Have you been hanging out a lot behind the scenes? Are you bonding because you were both "Dirk Stand-Ins" for Jake? Why does this make so much sense??? Hhhhh children.

**_The Injured Imaginary Friend Handbook:_ **

_Step One: Alert the subject to your presence._  
_Step Two: Approach and request a status update._  
_Step Three: Gently speak the subject's name in an attempt to catch their attention._  
_Step Four: Acquire permission, then attempt physical contact._  
_Step Five: Display of affection/comfort._  
_Step Six (if applicable): **DESTROY THE PERPETRATOR.**_

=====> Dann: Put the dumbass back in his room.

It doesn’t take you long to transport your TARGET to the desired location. Your jets are more than sufficient, even with the current state of your power source. (Ugh. The only way to return ~~home~~ to HOME_BASE before sundown in your current state would be to contact JADE_HARLEY and request assistance. Not only would that be ridiculous, as you are not in any actual danger at present and fully capable of all standard functions, but you are unsure she would comply if you did ask, considering her nagging. Unless Becquerel miraculously makes an appearance in the vicinity, you are stuck here tonight. (...You should have hit him harder.))

You dump the thankfully still-unconscious bucktoothed wonder onto his bed with more force than necessary just for the satisfaction of hearing the springs creak in protest and watching him bounce.

That settled, you leave him to his bruises and venture out into the domicile proper in search of his conspicuously absent shadow and a place to spend the night. (You doubt you’ll be getting any rest, but a recharge period is necessary regardless of whether is it spent in sleep mode or standby.)

=====>

You find Charlotte exactly where you expected to: high in the tower and as close to the volcano as he could get without leaving the domicile.

You make your way over to where he’s curled up beneath the window with the clearest line-of-sight to where the idiot Page was headed, taking care to be neither too loud nor too quiet.

He doesn’t stir, even to look up. You do not try to touch him.

“Greetings.”

_“...”_

No response. Proceeding to step two.

You captchalogue your face-mask and crouch beside the (worryingly) see-through anomaly of an acquaintance- no, friend. This ephemeral entity of a boy is your friend. (And possibly your sibling or similarly close relative, but that is irrelevant at this time.)

“QUERY: What is your status?”

_“...”_

...Step three. (You still do not touch him.)

**_“Charlotte.”_ **

_“...!”_

Finally.

“ **Charlotte_T.** , what is your status?”

_“...s-... ...still... still... breathin’. ...well... existin’, anyway...”_

(His voice sounds like it is echoing from the depths of a deep, distant tunnel. It shouldn’t. (You’ll fix this, one way or another. You will. You will not try, you will not attempt, you will succeed. You refuse to accept any other outcome.))

“Noted. Have you or he put any time into exploring the extent and nuances of your range? Do you have any awareness of your limits?”

_“.....n... ...nah’ really...”_

“Acknowledged.”

_“...s-... sorr... sorr...y... ...’m a r-right... r-right mess, yeah...?”_

(It seems Jake’s idiocy is _contagious._ Dammit, English. (...What is this strange sense of deja vu? Hmm.))

“Perhaps. Can this Unit assist you in any way?”

_“...welcome to try, but... well, y’can... see fer yerself I’m... y’know...”_

Step four. You attempt to touch him. (Your hand sinks into his shoulder easily, but you pull back to keep it on the surface.)

\-- Resistance negligible, comparable to water. Consistency reminiscent of fog. --

“Are you able to feel this?”

A wince. _“...y-yeah, I... ...barely, but...”_

“Do you want me to terminate contact?”

_“N-no...!! No, don’t, ‘m, ‘m fine, jus’... jus’... stay. **Please**.”_

“Acknowledged.”

You continue touching him. (You are unsure whether the sense of a slow increase in solidity is truly occurring or mere wishful thinking on your part, but this is what has been asked of you, so here you will remain.)

_“...th-thanks...”_

=====> Time: Pass.

You are not sure how long you sit there in companionable silence. You do not much care. (Still translucent, but he’s more stable now, more present. It is a heartening development.)

“Concern for your health aside, this Unit had another reason for seeking you out, by the way.”

_“Y’ did?”_

“Affirmative: my name. It seems proper introductions are in order.”

_“Done sayin’ y’ve got none, eh?”_

“For the moment.”

(You can feel him relaxing; finally beginning to untense. The persistent tremors show no sign of receding just yet, but a start is a start.)

_“Well, don’t keep me waitin’! What is it?”_

“Daniel. Daniel Roberta Strider.”

_“Dannel...? Err, I mean...”_

“Dann is sufficient.”

_“Dann. 's a nice name.”_

“Agreed. ...What does the T stand for?”

_“Oh, that? ‘s Timaeus. Weird, I know, but-”_

“A nice name.”

_“Y-yeah. A nice name.”_

He offers you a small, uncertain smile. You think you might be matching it. (Half of a handle and shared initials. To each their own, indeed.)

“Nice to robo-meet you, **Charlotte_Timaeus_Strider**.”

_“Heh... Nice t’ meet y’ too, Dann Roberta.”_

=====>

“...Does he know?”

_“Hmm?”_

“Rephrasing. Did **Jake_English** pressure you to remain here, knowing it would cause you harm?”

_“Nah, nah, he- he didn’t. He doesn’t- doesn’t know. Or at least, a’ least I hope he doesn’t...”_

_( **Dammit** , English.)_

Your fingers clench, crumpling the fabric of his shirt. You pay it little heed, preoccupied by the task of catching his skittish gaze and holding it.

“You have to tell him.”

_“‘m already a burden, I, I can’t jus’-...!”_

“Would you rather he find out _after_ causing you irreparable harm, then?”

_“Y-y' first!”_

“If that is what is required to put a stop to this cycle of stupidity, this Unit would be happy to do so.”

_“Wh- y-y' wouldn’t actually...?!”_

**_“Try me.”_ **

_“hhhh...”_

“If you do not tell him, I will.”

_“F-fine! Fine...”_

“Thank you.”

_“Wh...?”_

Step five.

(You hold him close, count out estimated seconds in lieu of measured breaths in a simulated voice, and wait for his shivers to ease.)

=====>

You maintain your embrace even after Charlotte’s consciousness ebbs and takes gravity’s hold on him with it, letting him float loosely in your arms.

A power outlet is well within reach. There is no need for you to move.

=====> Dann: Complete Step Six.

\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 18:29 GMT --  
DS: Greetings, TARGET.  
DS: As you have so adeptly proven that you have no concept of what [self-preservation] even is, this Unit will now, in addition to the message initially intended to have been communicated to you, spell out in certain terms what had been assumed in good faith to already have occurred to you in accordance with the [common sense] you clearly lack.  
DS: One.  
DS: My name is not Brobot.  
DS: Two.  
DS: Pay attention to those around you.  
DS: Three.  
DS: Do not engage in rock-climbing without a spotter.  
DS: Four.  
DS: Do not engage in strenuous physical activity during periods of extreme heat without proper preparation, supervision, and provisions.  
DS: Five.  
DS: _DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SCALE THE SLOPES OF AN [ACTIVE VOLCANO] YOU COGNITIVELY-DEFICIENT MEATBAG!!!_  
\-- dangerousStrifer [DS] blocked golgothasTerror [GT] \--

=====>


End file.
